


If I Die Young, I Want You To Know

by sugadad_dy93



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Other, Past Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugadad_dy93/pseuds/sugadad_dy93
Summary: If I Die Young, I Want You To Know:I was sexually harassed and assaulted by my half-brother.I like boys and girls. I don’t care who.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going through a lot at the moment. I would like to warn readers that this is not a story, but an entry of the sorts of what I've been through. I recently had an argument with my mother, and I felt I needed to write down what happened to me as a child. I wouldn't tell her this stuff face to face, so I felt I had to write it. One day I'll give this to her. Or when I die young, because COVID is crazy out here :p  
> TW//// This entry contains sexual assault, harassment.

If I Die Young, I Want You To Know:

I was sexually harassed and assaulted by my half-brother.

I like boys and girls. I don’t care who.

I have bits and pieces of being assaulted and harassed. I think I remember seeing a DVD and it had naked people on it. I showed it to my half brother because what was it? It was a porn DVD, I later realized. And, this would be the reason why I kept silent about the stuff he did to me, because maybe it really was my fault that he did the stuff he did. If I hadn’t shown him that DVD, maybe I wouldn’t have been tormented by him. Maybe I instigated this? Maybe I don’t deserve to call myself the victim.

The earliest memory I have was when we lived in an apartment and I was under a table with him and suddenly he showed me his privates. I then, in turn, did the same, I didn’t know this would transform into something more. I was so young. I didn't understand.

I can remember being in our cabin in North Carolina. My mom had separated from my dad by this time. I remember there being trees everywhere. There was a path that led to a playground. There, I saw my half-brother and his friends. I went down the slide. They also exposed their privates to me, and one even tried to pee on me. I cried, I ran back to the woods. I don’t remember much after that.

After this, there was a gap in memory. I don’t know what else happened between ages of four and ten.

There is one memory when we had a bunk bed at my grandparent’s house. My half brother is not related to them, but he lived with us then. I remember feeling something in between my legs. I feel disgusting saying this, but it felt good. And I woke up, and I wondered what was causing this? What was touching me there? I turned around, and there he was. His shadow in front of me, he didn’t say anything and stopped. Was he shocked? I pushed him away. I pushed him away. I didn’t want him to touch me like that. I didn’t want it, so I pushed him away. I told him go away. He stayed there on the floor. It felt like forever until he finally left the room.

I felt disgusted. I still feel disgusted. As I write this, I am reliving the fear and shame. I continue to feel this shame.

He told our cousins of what he did. I remember her coming up to me. “He told me you liked it.”

I didn’t like it. I didn’t. I was asleep.

This interaction was the catalyst. I never wanted to associate myself with them. Had he told everyone? Why would he do that? I felt nasty. I hated him. I hated everyone.

I remember sometime in fourth grade we moved out of my grandparent’s house. He was still here. I kept my distance. When going to the community pool, I was forced to go with him and his friends. I was fine with being alone. I minded my business; I didn’t want to talk to them.

I remember feeling like they were all staring at me. Had he told them too? I remember being poked in the stomach by one of his friends. I felt horrible. I felt scared. I don’t really remember anything after that. I think I got out of the pool.

Then there was a time of being free from him. We moved out of that gated community. We moved into an apartment complex. My last years of junior high were okay.

I went through high school not worrying so much about him. I would see him sometimes, but I kept my distance.

It wasn’t until sophomore year that I explored with my sexuality. My first kiss was with a girl and my first time was with the same girl. I opened up to how I was nervous about being touched because of what my half brother had done and allowed to be done. She told me it was okay. We still keep contact sometimes.

I opened up to some of my friends about what happened to me. I didn’t say who because I was so ashamed. It turned out we all were in the same boat. I only kept contact with one of those friends after high school.

I got into a state university and was so hopeful to finally get out of this suffocating city. I can leave the place where my nightmares happened. I can be free.

I was devastated when my parents tricked me into staying home again. I can still feel the hurt of being told I wasn’t able to leave. They wanted me to stay because I was their precious daughter who needed to be protected.

They wanted to protect me. I don’t recall being protected when they separated and left me vulnerable. When they let everything I had been through slip under their nose.

I don’t remember being protected when I was left alone and couldn’t fight him off. I had to fight him off when I realized enough was enough. I don’t remember them answering my call to help when I was seventeen. I begged for help, for someone to listen to me. _Listen_ to me. I remember when I ran away, my mother threatened to kill herself as a way to bring me back. It dawned on me then, that I couldn’t depend on them emotionally. They weren’t going to protect me.

I protected myself. I can only protect myself.

I was the only person to fight for me.

The pain of not being able to leave left me hysterical. My mother would allow his son to stay at the new house we rented. I knew I would have to deal with seeing him for another two years.

And my nightmare came true. I had to live under the same roof as him again. I still have to live under the same roof with him.

My family is oblivious to what he’s done. My mother, treating him like he’s some _poor_ , kicked dog.

My fear manifested to anger. At the mention of his name, I roll my eyes and scoff. He acts as though what happened didn’t happen. I want him gone.

I want to escape. Even with all this anger I have, I still fear the reaction of my family when I tell them. There are times when I think it's okay to say what I want to say. Times when I felt I could trust my family with this trauma, but held back.

If my family is reading this, and I died young, I want you to know what happened to me. The events which molded me cold and calculating. I know some of you say there was a time in my early adolescents when I changed. You can say it was puberty because it probably was that with a mix of trauma. It's hard for me to express my emotions. 

I want you to know the reason why I’m so indifferent to my half-brother. This is why.

I don’t plan on dying early, and I’m not suicidal.

I just wanted to make this for when I do die young because I wanted you to know.

And I wanted to vent, to release these secrets I’ve kept with me for the past decade.


	2. entry 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maybe karma does exist

maybe karma does exist.

i cannot stand up for myself, tell anyone the shame i feel when living under the same roof as my assaulter, nor feel any kinship with his daughter.

my family looks at me as though i am made of stone. that i do not have a heart.

look at her? she's so young, so innocent. she's your niece.

i just found out, my assaulter has a daughter. 

i am weak.

because im scared that i will forgive him. that i will want to just forget as i have for the past years. i dont want this stress.

but karma saw how weak i was to stand for myself.

it saw, and it's coming back to haunt him.

i think about the hard times he has. i revel in them. i enjoy it when he gets scolded. i enjoy it when he goes through a difficult time.

when my grandparents, who are not related to him, scrutinize him for every thing he does.

am i evil?

to relish those moments. even though they don't know what he has done to me, i feel as though they are taking my side.

is that cruel?

im not sure. 

i dont have the heart to tell them, i dont think i ever will.

so i'll take this, karma. i'll take the crumbs that you give me in my little revenge.


End file.
